Reborn in 1985

“Our family is so poor we can barely put food on the table—where are we supposed to get five hundred yuan? Why don’t you just rob us instead?”
“And besides, Xu Fei is still lying there—who knows if what you’re saying is even true!”
“Get out! All of you, get out of my house!”
The furious quarrel of a woman echoed in his ears.

Xu Fei felt as if his skull would split open, pain crashing through his head, making it hard even to breathe.

With a strangled gasp, he finally mustered his strength and forced his eyes open.

He felt like a drowning man, dragged from the edge of death onto dry land, his lungs hungrily gulping for air, his whole body drenched in cold sweat.

Damn it, who’d have thought a few drinks could almost kill me!

He cursed inwardly and sat up, intending to wash his face in the bathroom.

But as he raised his head and took in his surroundings, he stiffened in shock.

Before him stood an eight-inch black-and-white television, its signal unstable, crackling with static, flickering snow across the screen. Through the fuzz, Fei Xiang’s classic “A Fire in Winter” played in fits and starts.

On the long wooden table lay an old battery-powered flashlight, a few porcelain bowls and basins adorned with bright red flowers, and a line of red calligraphy.

What was happening?

Where was he?

At first, Xu Fei thought he was hallucinating, but the memories in his mind and the glaring date on the wall calendar made it clear: he had been reborn.

Reborn in the year 1985, on the third of May.

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